makes the heart grow fonder
by hikachu
Summary: As much as she tried to hide it, and rarely with good results, Beato was a needy creature and would easily get depressed when she felt lonely. PWP, pre-EP8, deanoning from the kink meme.


"Battler? Are you he—Mu…"

Beatrice's smile dissolved into a crestfallen expression. Battler was in their room as she had hoped. Asleep.

It wasn't that she didn't understand: he was doing his best to write a story that would ease Ange's loneliness, and, as his wife, she was doing her best to support him, even when if it meant spending less time together. However, as much as she tried to hide it (and rarely with good results), Beato was a needy creature and would easily get depressed when she felt lonely: the night before, she had tried to wait for Battler, but by the time he came to their room she had been already asleep, and the morning after he'd left before she could wake up.

Not to mention that their last _kiss_ had been three days ago.

Battler lay on his side of the bed, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist and his hair still wet. Beato figured he must have been too tired to even put on his pajamas before passing out.

"I, Idiot," she muttered; eyes tearing up. "Getting so tired so easily… at your age… W, What about your wife?"

Beatrice buried her face into a pillow and curled up on herself, praying she would fall asleep soon and forget those pathetic feelings.

"You aren't crying, are you, Beato?"

"Eh?"

When she turned around, Battler was grinning and his face was only a few centimeters away from hers.

"Ah, I really needed that nap," he poked one of her cheeks. "Sorry if I left you all alone in the past few days."

"I, I—I didn't even notice you weren't there! As if I'd—"

Battler's grin only widened. "Oh, so you're saying you weren't lonely? Even though you look like you've been crying—"

"I wasn't—"

"And your cheeks are so red…"

"That's, that's only because it's too hot in here and ha, having you on top of me like that doesn't help. At all."

"Should I leave then?"

Beatrice's whole face became bright red. There were tears at the corner of her eyes, again. She was biting her lip, probably to hold back a frustrated scream or a childish pout. Battler was very well aware of what she was actually feeling, and while he did feel a bit guilty, he just couldn't give up on such an opportunity to bully his wife a little.

He slid a hand under her short nightgown.

"Beato, should I leave?"

No response. His hand moved up her thigh and then down, never leaving her skin, to cup her backside. "So?"

"Y… You…"

"Hm?" Battler casually brushed his lips against her jaw as he leaned in to hear what the other was saying. "I didn't hear that. You'll need to raise your voice."

"S… Stay here!" she literally exploded, tears streaming down her face.

"Ihihi, if you ask me like that, there's no way I can refuse, right?"

His other hand moved to cup one of her breasts, teasing the nipple with his fingernails. Beato whimpered. Battler felt his own cheeks become warmer, his heartbeat faster.

"Cute," he muttered and kissed her face. "Stop crying now, okay? I'm here."

"W-Who's crying…? As if I'd ever… for you…" Beatrice's voice was broken by her erratic breathing and the small moans that left her lips every time Battler touched her.

His mouth joined his fingers, and he began to nibble very lightly at her breast—just enough to let her feel the hint of teeth against her sensitive skin.

"B, Battler…!"

"Hn? Not enough?"

Battler gave her buttocks one last squeeze with his other hand, before moving it between her legs; the tip of his fingers half-caressing and half-scratching as they tried to move aside her underwear to touch her core.

"Ahn—!"

Battler himself was panting and almost at his limit at that point. "How… How's that, Beato? Look at this," he pressed deeper into her. "Already so wet. You must have really missed me, huh?"

It was in an impetus of embarrassment and pride that Beatrice gritted her teeth and tried to push her husband away. "Shut up! You idiot! Don't talk like—" a new, sudden stroke. "Ah—!"

"Hey Beato, are you alright like this?" there it was again, that irritating grin of his. "Maybe you should tell me what you want, exactly."

The silence that followed was rather awkward. Beatrice blinked, staring at him. Battler blinked, staring back at her.

He couldn't have predicted a sudden attack from his wife resulting in five, long, angry scratches across his face.

"Owowow—!" he jumped back a little, yelling. "The heck was that?"

Beato was furious, but her disheveled look and embarrassment somehow twisted her angered appearance into cuteness. "It's what you get for being an idiot! You're a thousand years too early to try and make me say such—"

"Ahh," it was Battler's turn to frown. "Way to miss the point and ruin the mood!"

Only Beato, he thought, could turn sex (or an attempt at it) into another pointless fight. But that was one of the reasons he loved her, wasn't it?

Smiling gently, Battler leaned in again and kissed her on the mouth. He loved kissing her, the way she felt so soft and responded so eagerly even now, cupping his face between her hands to draw him closer or keep him from breaking the kiss when she still wanted more.

And it was the way Beato kept clinging to him, the way she pressed her body against is, sensual but not devoid of tenderness, that ultimately drove Battler to his limit.

"Hey," he whispered into Beatrice's ear. "I can't take it anymore."

"A-Already…? How weak…" but her smile was so sweet as she held Battler even closer.

His fingers slid down along her sides, teasing, briefly stopping on her hips to massage the soft flesh there.

"So," he began casually, as his hands moved to her thighs to draw lazy circles where he knew she was particularly sensitive. "What do you want?"

But this time, Beatrice only laughed.

"Again, Battler? Kukuku. What is it, what is it? Why do you want me to admit that I missed this—you so badly? Don't tell me you were feeling lonely too…"

Blushing, Battler averted his gaze.

"… Heh. I can't be blamed, can I? Having such a hot wife and being unable to touch her for several days would drive any guy crazy…"

Heat rose to Beato's cheekbones, which were already pink. She giggled, feeling flattered and wanted in ways that went beyond sex, but it was cut off by the feeling of Battler tugging down her underwear and entering her. She hissed: it was sudden and it hurt, but Beato had missed this warmth, being this close to her husband and, because of this, she welcomed even that little pain.

Battler didn't move at first. It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to resist for much longer, though.

"Is it alright if…?" his voice trembled.

Beato just nodded impatiently: she wasn't sure it was alright; she'd barely had any time to adjust, after all, and yet she couldn't wait, either.

Battler started moving inside of her with increasing speed, drowning in that pleasure and apparently forgetting everything else—it was the sight of Beato, almost in tears and gritting her teeth, that made him slow down.

"Ah, this… stupid witch… You should have… told me…"

But she only shook her head with a strained smile. "It's fine," her voice was barely audible. "I… like this… y-you are… ah!... too soft…"

"Pervert," he muttered half-heartedly and took her hand into his. Then he kissed her: first her neck, then her mouth, and she giggled against his lips as Battler picked up his pace again and kept squeezing her hand.

After days of longing for each other's touch so badly, they couldn't and didn't last long, but Beatrice still felt content as she fell asleep into Battler's arms, thinking that this happiness would last for all eternity.


End file.
